Crumbling Castles
by Lucky Clarion
Summary: What happens when the perfect fairytale life you had planned for and expected is light years away from reality? A cynical, judgmental and embittered Bella copes with her day-to-day by fantasizing about her favorite green-eyed customer. AH/AU One-shot.


**Hello all and welcome!**

**If you read the teaser on LJ, it may read a little differently because I made some minor changes.**

**Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight related.**

**Enjoy! See you at the bottom!**

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Life sucks and then you die. Those words couldn't have rung truer than it did right now.

Don't get me wrong, I hadn't always been that pessimistic. I had grown up with a silver spoon in my mouth in a rather large estate – both parents present and accounted for – in a small town in Washington. My best friend and I had been in love with each other and thought that we would have what our parents still have.

I had my life all planned out; I'd work my ass off in school in order to get my M.A. in English by the time I turn twenty-four, a career following shortly after graduating, marriage by twenty-six and kids by twenty-eight.

I wanted a simple but elegant wedding with a designer strapless frou frou dress. The reception: intimate but opulent, a celebration shared between family and friends. My honeymoon destination would have been somewhere warm, a beautiful and exotic location with white sandy beaches and crystal blue waters. I had envisioned a large two-storey home with a white picket fence, an SUV in the drive and a Golden Retriever running around, dodging the sprinklers in our the spacious front yard.

Yeah, well, life has a shitty way of telling you that you're a mile off the mark. With three failed relationships and countless less-than-satisfactory dates under my belt, I had learned the hard way that fairytales don't even come close to existing… for me, that is. Everyone else just seemed so happy and in love; I found it all rather sickening and usually took the time to silently bitch at the couples who happily put their love on display for the world to witness

College had been the turning point for Jake and me. Although we had lived together, we started to drift; we went from finishing each other's sentences to wondering what the other was thinking. It wasn't like we had become drastically different people as soon as we had entered the real world… well, as real world as college could get; it was more like subtle changes that we had gotten used to over time.

Jake and I had date nights on Fridays and Saturdays when we had been free from any and all schoolwork, but it had been too planned, too predictable – it ran like clockwork. Our relationship had lost its spontaneity as date nights usually included dinner, a movie and sex that was vanilla at best – it lacked oomph. Don't misunderstand me, I certainly came when his fingers came into the mix_, _but I hadn't experienced a screaming orgasm in years. In between separate study groups and cramming for exams and short quizzes, we had usually stayed indoors to sit on the couch and watch TV with minimal conversation. It was comfortable and familiar, but mind-numbingly boring.

Jake's work load had been drastically lighter than mine and I had felt horrible for putting my academic career over the love of my life for an extended period of time. But, he had been really supportive and had encouraged me when I was ready to drop more than a couple of classes.

It hadn't been until every other sentence out of his mouth had included a girl named Vanessa did I finally question how my boyfriend had been spending his time away from me. Jake had assured me that he wasn't cheating on me when I had confronted him about it. In fact, he had declared that Ness and I would surely be best friends.

To my delight and utter relief, he hadn't picked Vanessa up at a bar during a guys' night out; she had been paired with him for a project in their marketing class. She was a sweet girl and we had become good friends despite her backward goals in life. My jealousy had been unfounded when it was clear to me that Jake's friendship with Vanessa had been purely platonic.

Eventually, her outlook on life and influence on Jake left a bitter taste in my mouth. She had aspired to be a kept woman in a close knit community with no responsibilities other than to keep her husband sexually satisfied and happy. A degree in business was just something to fall back on if that didn't work out for her. Jake knew that I had wanted to live in the city, have a career and at least three kids, but he pushed her ideals on me anyway, thinking that I would eventually give in to his idea of a happy home.

I loved him, so I had been willing to compromise on a couple things in order to have _our_ happily ever after, like living in some cookie-cutter gated community complete with meticulously manicured gardens and identical beige homes in Seattle after grad school. I had planned to limit our family to only one child to carry on his family name… my career, however, was non-negotiable.

I had reached my breaking point when I had excitedly shared my acceptance letter into an English graduate program at UCLA with Jake. He had exclaimed that I didn't need a master's degree to get a job in Forks if I got bored at home and then proceeded to give me an ultimatum: stay with him and forget about my "silly dreams" or don't expect the relationship to last longer than the rest of the semester. I hadn't counted on it to last longer than the rest of the hour given the way we had been arguing. Honestly, I had been surprised that the neighbors hadn't called the cops and filed a complaint against us for a noise disturbance.

Our different expectations pertaining to our future together had been highlighted like a blemish underneath a 10,000 megawatt spotlight. It had only been then when I had realized that our differences had left us on opposite sides of a mile long chasm with no way to bridge the distance. There was no compromising with him, it was all or nothing… it was his way or the highway; guess which one I had chosen.

After the shouting match had reached its zenith, I had kicked him out of the apartment since the lease was in _my _name. And just like that, a twenty-one-year friendship, a six-year intimate relationship, had completely dissolved into nothing as if it had only been a figment of my imagination. I had considered gathering up his things and setting them on fire à la Angela Bassett in _Waiting to Exhale_, I had even bought tons of lighter fluid in preparation for the massive bonfire. But, ultimately, I had decided to donate his expensive designer clothes to a homeless shelter and electronic toys to Goodwill. It still put a smile on my face to think of that picture that I had sent to him; it was of a homeless man strutting around in Jake's Rock & Republic jeans and favorite DIESEL leather jacket that had been near impossible to find.

I knew that he had been in the wrong and I had been too stubborn to cave, so I waited for the groveling phone call, the apology flowers or the knock on the door at three in the morning, begging for forgiveness, but they never came. Like the sheltered daddy's girl that I had been, I had run to my childhood home desperate for some guidance. That was a big mistake; Charlie had sided with Jake and Renee had sided with Charlie.

_Does anyone know how it feels to realize that you don't even have your parents in your corner to back you up? It's disconcerting and depressing. To be absolutely blunt, it fucking sucks big hairy balls and a crooked dick._

Dad had pleaded with me to reconsider my decision regarding my split with Jake, assuring me that he would surely want children as his inheritance was contingent upon it. Jake was set to inherit Black Ink, a Seattle based, highly-sought-after advertising firm that had built from the ground up by William "Billy" Black with my father at his side as CFO. Dad had preached that a career would be an unnecessary distraction because my bank account was to be generously padded as a wedding gift from my parents and, of course, Jake would have taken care of my every need.

_Well, why in the fuck did they think it was a good idea for me to go to college and expand my horizons, then? _

The answer you ask? They had wanted me to be able to hold an intelligent conversation while playing the charming good wife at company parties and social events. It never hurt to have an intelligent wife who cared more about the world than what Chanel's spring line looked like. In the Swan/Black social circles, a pretty face was nothing without intelligence.

They had completely forgotten (possibly disregarded) my turn around trip to Los Angeles for an interview at UCLA, so my desire to head south for grad school was breaking news for them. Apparently, my parents and the Blacks had all been expecting a June wedding event of the season with a guest list of over seven-hundred people after Jake's graduation the following year. They had thought that my motivation for graduating a year early was so that I could spend the next year submerging myself in wedding plans.

When I had made my distaste for being a young housewife known, Dad had tried to persuade me with promises of lavish charity balls and events to keep me occupied. And when that hadn't worked, he had declared that I was selfish for wanting what I did because motherhood and careers did not mix and then refused to help me pay for school.

He didn't understand that I didn't want to work for the sole purpose to earn a salary; I wanted to do something worthwhile with my life and not live in a bubble where everything came to me with a snap of my fingers. My father might have been just a tad old-fashioned when he had mentioned that it was a man's job to provide for his family, but he was one-hundred percent sexist when he told me that a woman's place was not in an office but in her home with her children.

_You're all probably thinking: WHAT? Yes, exactly my sentiments. However, I think that I was more shocked and appalled with the fact the Renee had sat there with a smile on her face and made no move to contest his outrageous comment._

I think that the bullshit he had been spewing had been fueled by the fact that Jake would never be his son-in-law at that point. Jacob Black was the son he had always wanted, but never had because Renee had been left infertile due to complications from being pregnant with me. There was no doubt that I was the epitome of "Daddy's Little Girl," but even I could see that he had longed for a son; someone he could play catch with and bond with over sporting events and cars.

I don't know why it had never occured to me that Renee had been the same position, but she had and she embraced it. Growing up, I didn't understand why the other mommies had to go to work while mine spent every day with me playing dress up, fashion show, tea parties, et cetera. Before she had gotten married she had been an English Lit teacher at a private school in Seattle. She left her position to raise me and take care of Dad. When I had ample time to think about it I had realized that she had given up her independence to become a materialistic trophy wife and mother. While I had been at school, she had spent her time watching trashy daytime soaps and talk shows, being pampered at various spas, shopping, or directing the hired help to their designated jobs. I love my mom with all my heart, but that didn't mean I wanted to follow in her footsteps.

While being a stay-at-home mom who had an army of gardeners, maids, butlers and chefs at her disposal had sounded tempting, I wanted a chance to leave my mark on the world even if it was only temporary. I wanted to live and experience and make mistakes just to learn from them. I wanted my own life before I settled down and started a family that I was responsible for. After all, I had only been twenty-one years old at the time and I had a plan that I was determined to stick to.

It had occurred to me that throughout my childhood all they had encouraged me to be was some pompous, lazy woman who never had to lift a finger; I've never had to make my bed, clean my room or make my own snack. Up until college, laundry had been a foreign concept to me. I bet they hadn't counted on having a daughter who didn't want everything handed to her on a platinum platter. Yes, platinum… silver wasn't good enough for Charlie and Renee Swan's daughter.

I had finished out the rest of the semester incommunicado; I was too hurt and angered by my family's betrayal and lack of understanding to think straight. The only call that I had gotten from them was on the morning I had left their McMansion; Renee wanted to be certain that I had made it to the apartment in one piece.

That same afternoon, I had called a friend who was a year older than me and had been studying at UCLA, Alice Brandon. To say that she had been ecstatic when we had talked through our upcoming living arrangements was an understatement. She had talked until my ears had bled, going on and on about the sunshine, the nightlife, the shopping and mostly her long-time boyfriend, Jasper. He was a USC man, but Ali never let that bother her.

Before I knew it, my thesis had been accepted and submitted, final exams had come and gone and June was upon us. It was graduation season and I hoped that my parents had opened the envelope that I had mailed to them; it had contained the announcement and tickets to my graduation ceremony. It had broken my spirit knowing that Charlie and Renee hadn't been sitting in the audience, watching their daughter – their only child – graduate summa cum laude from the University of Washington in only three years. They hadn't communicated with me in any way, so I had assumed that they hadn't bothered to make the trip east.

I had made a quick farewell phone call to my parents to say goodbye before I had left the ceremony venue in my rented transportation. I had been resigned to leave a brief message on both their voicemails when they hadn't picked up. Calling the house had been a dead end; I had been informed that they were gone for the rest of the week.

Everything that I had owned, sans the furniture, had fit into the U-Haul truck. My white SLK 55 had already been shipped to L.A. via an auto transport company and dropped off in front of Alice's apartment complex. I had already agreed to sublet my apartment in Seattle until my contract was up and closed out my depleting checking and savings account with Columbia Bank. Charlie had cut me off a week after I had stormed out the property gates and without Daddy's bank account funding my own, ten-thousand dollars was not enough to last one year without a frugal budget plan and a job.

I said a tearful, silent goodbye to my home state, along with the people in it, and started my nine-hundred-mile journey to my new life Los Angeles.

To make a long story short: here I am twenty-five years old, a year out of graduate school, still single with absolutely no worthy prospects and still up to my eyeballs in student loans because I had opted to defer payments until after graduation. Lucky me.

With the economic slump, companies had begun to downsize and the internship pool was cutthroat. I had been a victim to sabotage and was ultimately let go from the public relations firm I had been working for during the first two months fresh out of grad school. So, to make ends meet, I had worked for whomever was hiring because there was no way that I'd be going back to Forks with my tail tucked between my legs – not after three years of making it on my own. My stubbornness had prevented me from asking my parents for help and their pigheadedness had prevented them from offering it.

The first job that I had gotten was at publishing company as a receptionist; I'm still with the company and currently trying to work my way up the ladder. Although they offered medical and dental benefits, the salary wasn't enough. I hated my most current job with a passion because I had promised myself that I would never again go into foodservice, but my tips and wages helped to keep food on the table and the collectors off of my back.

I grimaced as I watched the scene unravel in front of me; it brought me out of my rather unfortunate recollections.

_Oh. My. Damn. Fuck my life._

A woman had just walked out with a disgusted look on her face, leaving her husband and two children behind at the table to take care of the mess that the little boy had spewed onto his family's lunch. The man scrambled around like a chicken with its head cut off; his attention divided between the rancid white vomit, his bawling five-year-old son and his young adolescent "I-wish-I-was-at-the-mall" daughter – she looked like she wanted to become one with the vinyl booth.

_Perhaps if you and your wife hadn't given your son anything he had screeched for, he wouldn't have regurgitated the _adult_-sized vanilla milkshake complete with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. Gag. That runt had single-handedly ruined milkshakes for me. Possibly even ice cream._

Since our policy here was to never let the guests clean up their own shit, I walked over armed to the teeth with industrial strength cleaning supplies and a fake friendly smile stuck on my face. The dark-haired, hazel-eyed father figure gave me a grateful smile in return, collected his children and walked to the counter to pay for his bill. He left the diner red-faced with embarrassment, his shrieking, demon son and sulking daughter in tow.

With a sigh, I called the busboy and instructed him to wear gloves for sanitary purposes before he started clearing the table of dirty dishes. A piece of green sticking out from underneath the plastic ketchup bottle caught my eye; he left a twenty dollar tip on a forty-something dollar bill. At least he and his asstard of a wife didn't share the same diva tendencies.

After helping Mike sanitize and wipe down the booth and table, I scooted off to the restroom to scrub the putrid stench of cleaners off of my skin and drench my ugly ass poodle mini skirt uniform in body spray.

_Great, now I smell like food, oil and sickly-sweet artificial strawberries; that is a headache-inducing and retch-worthy combination._

The soft, golden light made my usually pallid skin luminescent; the owners have yet to jump on the bandwagon and switch over to energy saving bulbs like every other Californian. The carefree girl that I once was had been replaced with an unfamiliar woman that wore her hardships on her face. The summer before the final year of grad school, I had played the role of the starving student, essentially living on ramen noodles and frozen pizza after Alice Brandon had become Alice Whitlock, thus moving to Henderson, Nevada with Jasper. I had lost a significant amount of weight in that time period and if I had the ability to tan, I would have looked like every other Calista Flockhart wannabe in L.A. Thankfully, I had returned to my healthy weight by eating unhealthy, artery-clogging diner food. Yum.

_I have to cut back on those fries; my metabolism slows down every damn second I get closer to thirty._

Alice and Jasper had offered to pay for her half of the rent until I found another roommate, but I had declined their offer. After a big wedding with an open-bar reception and a new house, the newlyweds didn't need to incur unnecessary expenses.

So, in order to keep from being a starving homeless person, I had warily put out an ad for a roommate and hoped that I wouldn't attract crazies. Six months and dozens of potential roomies later, I had ended up with Rosalie Hale; she had been a college freshman at the time and tired of dorm life. The former captain of the Carson High School Flaggies was dating Bruins linebacker, Emmett McCarty – I was planning to ask him to split the rent with us since he spent most of his time there anyway.

My hair was a train wreck; other than my biannual trims, I didn't have the funds or time that was necessary for the upkeep of smooth and silky locks.

The dark circles underneath my eyes were a telltale sign of inadequate sleep; I didn't have much time for it these days. Sixty-hour work weeks between two part-time jobs with no vacation time were draining. Oh, and the fact that Rose and Em fuck like bunnies at all hours of the night hadn't done me any good, either; they were usually very vocal. But, hey, I'd be happy with my earplugs and the occasional Unisom pill as long as Rose helped me pay the bills on time.

"Ugh, this place is disgusting. I don't know why he insists on eating here all the time."

_Yeah, was that supposed to hurt my feelings? _I_ don't even want to be here… especially with you._

It took me a few seconds to realize that 3P was doing her best to burn holes into my face with her fiery gaze… I admit that I was a little more than intimidated. 3P was short for the nickname that I had secretly bestowed on the beautiful über-bitch of a woman that was viciously glaring at me. Pretentious Pretty Princess (aka Gianna) was a tall, slender woman with a set of T&A that Kendra Wilkinson would be proud of. She was dressed in a pencil skirt power suit with leather Louboutin pumps on her feet. The outfit could have easily covered the rent, car insurance and minimum loan payment for this month with a little cash left over for some indulgences… like new clothes that _didn't_ come from Forever 21. I may be a little bitter about that; once upon a time I had purchased my clothes from posh boutiques and high-end department stores.

The dark, angular bob she was sporting served to highlight her sharp features and the bright red, creamy lipstick completed her "bitch-in-the-boardroom" look. If I was unfortunate enough to work for her, I'd probably be hiding in a corner of a dark, unused room.

_I can already picture it: "Bella! Where are you? I asked for two packets of _Splenda_ in my coffee, not Sweet-n-Low!" or "Where are those notes that I gave you? I thought I told you that I wanted them typed up and on my desk by noon!" Never mind that she handed me fifteen pages in her untidy scrawl about ten minutes ago…_

It was obvious that 3P had a problem with me, I just couldn't figure out why. I had always been polite, attentive and courteous… even though she deserved to have her food dropped on the floor and then plated as is. Her food and drinks had always arrived in a timely manner, yet she couldn't pass up an opportunity to bitch out at me and make me feel two inches tall in front of her fuckhot lunch companion.

Last Thursday, she had all but spilled her drink on me when she had shoved the cup back into my hands, demanding an explanation as to why her Diet Coke was missing her lemon wedge and practically filled to the brim with ice.

"Because I can't read your mind, Omarosa, so if you want something, you'll have to verbalize it." Well, that's what I _wanted_ to say, but the words that had automatically flown out of my mouth were more like: "I'm sorry about that, ma'am. I'll get you another one right away."

I despised her, but I was happy to know that she was here; Gianna's arrival meant that Edward was currently in the dining area, somehow usually ending up in my section… not that I'm complaining or anything.

Edward (cue dreamy sigh) was one fine specimen of a man. He had looks that would render men and women – _gay and straight_ – speechless. He was completely polite, had mannerisms that made me swoon and often saved me from many of Gianna's tongue lashings and rude behavior.

The pissy prissy was still staring at me, expecting a rebuttal; probably looking for a fight now that Edward wasn't here to be my knight in shining armor and save me from the fire-breathing she-beast. I shrugged in response, not giving her what she wanted, and continued to clean myself up. After displaying behavior worthy of a high school student by scoffing and doing a little hair flip, she stomped into an empty stall and, by the sounds of it, proceeded to use ten toilets seat covers. Wasteful little snob.

I knew that this fifties diner dive and attached restroom was not exactly up to par with her usual five-star restaurant haunts complete with restroom attendants, but it was clean and we had regularly passed the quarterly health inspections with flying fucking colors. It wasn't like she could have compared the restroom with that of a gas station's john and found disgusting similarities.

_I'm pretty sure that we keep it cleaner than many home bathrooms out there, too._

I exited the ladies' room, leaving the pretentious princess behind to fluff and primp. Scanning the dining area, my eyes fell upon the coppery-bronze, perfectly-tousled, just-got-laid hair belonging to none other than The Panty Terminator, Edward Cullen. Cotton granny panties, lace boy shorts, silky satin thongs and barely there g-strings had never stood a chance against him; they had routinely combusted with just one crooked smile. And I was pretty sure that his voice could melt a fucking steel chastity belt. What I wouldn't give to be properly boinked by him. My clit tingled just from mere proximity. It was too bad that he was attached to 3P… _I think._

I had never actually seen them display the characteristics of a couple in love or even in like. They've always sat on opposite sides of the table, never leaned in to share an intimate secret, always business professional. They had never fed each other or left the diner hand-in-hand, eager for a little afternoon delight.

_Thank, God! I think I'd cry if I ever had to witnessed that._

Maybe they're exes and she's still in love with him. They could be friends or coworkers and she has a massive girl boner for him which would explain her aggressive need to pee all over her territory in a manner of speaking. But, surely, she doesn't think I'm competition because that's just utterly ridiculous; she's _Maxim_ magazine cover material and I'm… me. I'd be lucky as fuck to be hired for a bargain brand catalog.

I smoothed out my uniform and apron and hoped that I no longer smelled like I had bathed in pine and lemon scented cleaners. Before I had the opportunity to walk over to Edward's table, Angela stopped me.

"Bella, can you cover table twenty for a few minutes, please? Thank you!" She hadn't given me much of a chance to decline as she was already walking towards the back door like she was strutting down the runway. Angela was trying to break into the modeling industry, but until her big break came, she still needed a job.

I looked over towards the corner booth and saw that it was crawling with rowdy teenage boys dressed like they belonged in a tacky hip-hop video with a fleet of Caddies sittin' on chrome 20's in the background. Giggling and barely clothed teenage girls who looked like they were well on their way to making a career in the porn industry wrapped themselves around the guys and pushed their hardly-there cleavage in their faces. Blech.

If I didn't consider Angela to be a good friend, I would have told her where to stick it. I audibly groaned when I recognized one of the boys as the pain-in-the-ass repeat offender, Eric. That boy was barely seventeen, a wannabe pimp and a troublemaker; we've had to ask him to leave on more than one occasion.

"Hi, I'm Bella. How's everyone doing?" I asked out of courtesy, my voice laced with fake perkiness. I was met with an ear-splitting affirmative; they were a little giddy because school had let out for the summer about an hour ago. "Have you guys decided on anything to drink?"

After taking four orders of _unsweetened_ iced tea for the girls ("because sugar makes you fat" – I tried not to roll my eyes) and three IBC Root Beers for the guys (who thought that they were cool because it created the illusion of drinking beer from a bottle – I rolled my eyes that time), I turned to Eric with a tight smile. "And for you?"

"Uhhhhhhh… lemonade, but it _has_ to be made with Voss and four and a half ice cubes, okay? Four and a half… Oh, a teaspoon and a smidge of sugar, too. Got it? Thanks, babe," he said with a wink.

"Look, tiny-tot," I said, my voice clearly reflecting that it would be wise not to fuck with me. "We have the right to refuse service, so if you aren't going to order anything, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." I was seriously not in the mood for his shit today.

"Get me a Coke, then, slave!" He declared with a snap of his fingers. Being the immature idiots that they were, they burst into raucous laughter like it was the funniest thing they've heard all year.

_Yeah, we'll see who's laughing when I spit in your drinks, assholes._

"Thanks, Bella! I needed the nicotine before I dealt with… all of that," she gestured over to the table where the boys were now shooting spit balls at each other over squealing girls.

_Gross. We really should remove the straw dispensers from the table._

"I hope you have something stronger; you might need it in about two minutes because Eric's over there."

"Ugh… thanks for the heads up," Angela grimaced. He had a hard-on for her and never failed to try to cop a feel. Horny bastard. Eric really didn't think that Angela would follow through on her threat to file sexual harassment charges against him. Stupid.

After informing the obnoxiously rude party of eight that Angela, their regular server, would be right out with their drinks and to take their orders, I shuffled over to table twelve. I had a mini freak-out, knowing that I'd have the opportunity to talk to Edward while still attempting to evade 3P's insults.

"Hi, Edward," I greeted cheerfully and tried not to gush – I failed. "Pr—Gianna," I murmured, curbing my need to growl at her.

"Hey, Bella, how are you today?" Edward asked, jovially.

"I'm great, thanks."

"Get me a Diet Coke, no ice, one lemon wedge… think you got enough brain cells to get it right this time, Bertha?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. I gave her a tight smile to keep the word "bitch" from slipping through my lips and nodded my head. Edward groaned and buried his face in his palms, clearly embarrassed with her behavior.

"Gianna…" he reprimanded while she looked down at the menu, annoyingly-bored written all over her perfect face.

"I want a Gardenburger," she went on, not bothering to look up.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, we don't serve those here." She already knew that; Gianna had looked over the menu at least thirty times over the last four months and we rarely introduced new items.

"Whatever, a grilled chicken sandwich with Swiss, then… salad instead of fries and balsamic vinaigrette on the side."

"We don't carry any vinaigrettes, ma'am," I informed her, desperately trying to keep from snapping at her.

"Fine," she barked, "_fat-free Italian_ on the side. God, this restaurant has absolutely nothing appetizing, why do you come here all the time?" She complained.

"With all due respect, Gianna, you don't have to accompany me to lunch if you aren't satisfied with my choice," Edward defended diplomatically, trying not to start an argument. She shrugged and took her Palm Pre out fiddle with, knowing that she didn't have an answer that wouldn't make her look like a loony bitch.

"I'll have the usual, Bella. Thank you," he smiled. I sniffed the air and noticed that something was burning.

_Shit, I hope Paul hadn't burned anything else, I was seriously going to have some grumpy customers if they had to wait fifteen more minutes for their food. Oh, no, wait… my panties are on fire. Maybe I could get him to put them out with his tongue… or at least his hands._

"Alright, I'll be right back with your drinks." I smiled brightly at Edward only to have it dimmed by Gianna's scowl.

_I hope you choke on your salad you demonic bitch-whore._

As I was walking towards the kitchen doors, fantasizing about different ways to make 3P cry, Jessica used the "in" door on her way out and consequently crashed into me with a tray full of drinks.

_Wet. Cold. Sticky. Fuuucckkk, I knew I should have stayed home today._

"Oh, crap! I'm so sorry, Bella! I have an extra uniform in my locker if you need it," She rushed out, bending over to collect the tray and plastic tumblers.

If this had been anyone other than Jessica, I would have thrown my arms around her and thanked her profusely because going back to Edward's table with a soggy uniform was embarrassing… especially if I had to stand next to that perfect bitchface who probably had never stained her clothes in her entire life. In Jessica's apologetic confusion, she had seemed to forget that I was a size five and she was a size double zero. I had always felt like a beached whale next to her.

Jessica was tiny and sweet, a jailbait cheer co-captain with the hyperness of a five-year-old toddler high on copious amounts of Pixy Stix and plain M&M's. She was nice to everyone because she couldn't tell a genuinely nice comment from a sarcastic one subtly laced with an insult; the light bulb over her head was constantly dim. She was like a fucking newborn puppy that you just _had_ to take care of and protect – she was too trusting, too naïve, too… sugar without the spice.

"Thanks for the offer, Jess, but I have some clothes in my locker." That wasn't a lie. There was no fucking way I'd leave my apartment dressed in a poodle mini skirt and a revealing pink button-down shirt with a Daisy's Diner screen print on the back. Fuck. That. It was worse than a Hooters girl uniform. I had always changed before and after every shift.

She gave me a sheepish smile and then turned to mop the floor. Mike swooped in from God knows where and gingerly took the mop away from her. He had a crush on her and had refused to subject her to "hard labor." The only two things holding Mike back from asking her out was his bashfulness and Jessica's inability to get a clue.

"Ang, can you watch my tables while I go get cleaned up, please?" I asked on my way to the staff room.

"Yeah, of course. What happened?"

"Jessica," was all I said; she nodded in understanding seeing as how it had happened to her two weeks ago.

I grabbed my tote from the locker and stopped by the janitorial closet to swipe the "Out of Order" sign. Cringing with every squeak of my shoe, I made it to the restroom relatively unscathed; I slipped once and banged my elbow against the wall, but managed to catch myself before doing a faceplant on the waxed floors.

After plastering the sign on the door, I went inside and turned to drag the heavy trash bin over to prevent anyone from barging in while I was in my undies. The door swung open just as I was going to position the bin to keep people out.

"I'm sorry, the restroom is closed for maintenance," I said, turning around. "Edward? What are you—mmphh…" he cut me off with his soft, moist lips. The hands that had been cupping my face trailed down my neck and further south until he gripped my upper arms.

"I've been waiting to do that for months," he whispered as soon as he broke the kiss; I whined in protest.

_Less talking, more doing._

My lips eagerly sought his and my hand automatically found purchase in his soft hair. Before I knew what was happening, he had me pinned up against the cold, tiled wall by his hips; his hands were busy squeezing my boob and groping my ass. He ground his very well-endowed erection against me and I let out a moan when the seam his zipper had created pushed against my sensitive clit.

_Holy mother fuck! Do it again!_

I've only been with two guys since Jake and they were nothing special compared to the him. But, now the way I see it, Jake pales in comparison to Edward.

I was mildly worried about the state of Edward's clothes since mine were still soaked with soda and milkshakes and he was doing his best to give me an orgasm with our clothes on.

_Of course, that could be remedied in zero point two seconds; he can't ruin his clothes if he isn't wearing any._

He fucked my mouth with his tongue; a little preview of what was to come, I was sure of it. I was resigned to rip his button-down shirt apart since I couldn't get the little buttons through the tiny holes; my hands were trembling with need and to be honest, I was fucking impatient.

I tightened my legs around his waist and threw my arms around his neck as he removed his shirt and pushed us off of the wall, our lips and tongues still melded together. He set me down on the counter and I squealed when my heated skin made contact with the granite slab. He ripped my shirt open and off, buttons flying and landing into hard to reach crevices of the restroom. With one of his hands freeing my breast from a cup and the other creeping up my thigh, he continued to grind into me, giving me the kind of friction that I would have no problems begging for. I swear to any deity out there, I was going to come just from dry humping.

I slipped my hand between us and palmed his unbelievably hard dick through his dress slacks.

"Fuck, that feels good," he groaned just as he began to nibble on my earlobe. His groan was the hottest thing I had ever heard in my life; my panties were thoroughly soaked through.

My hands found his belt; I unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped in record time. Entranced, I stared at the way his cock strained against his dark blue boxer briefs. His precum soaked through the cotton briefs as I continued to explore what made him moan in satisfaction and gasp in pleasurable surprise.

Trailing kisses down the column of my neck and down my chest, he sucked my exposed nipple into his mouth as his hands reached behind me to unhook my embarrassingly unsexy white cotton bra; he stood back and watched it fall from my body.

"Beautiful," he whispered. Fully revealed and wanton, I arched my back; silently begging him to touch me, lick me, suck me, bite me… anything as long as his skin was on mine.

His mouth descended on one breast, flicking with his tongue and gently nipping with his teeth while his hand came up to pay homage to its neglected twin. He palmed and squeezed and tweaked while the other hand trailed further south to the area I had been anticipating him the most.

"Mmm… so wet," he grunted against my chest, stroking me through my panties. I couldn't stop the guttural groan from escaping my lips when he started to tease my little bundle of nerves through the thin fabric.

"Fuck me… hard … please. I need you," I begged, ridding him of his expensive slacks. His cock sprung out and bobbed in greeting after I had ripped his briefs down his legs. Gathering the abundant precum at the tip, I pumped him slowly, often bringing my thumbs to tease his sensitive head.

Growling, he gripped my hips to pull me from the counter and into a standing position. Edward hooked his fingers into my skirt and panties and dragged them down my legs. His darkened eyes raked over my naked form and zeroed in on my bare, glistening pussy; my arousal had already made its way down my thighs. With heavy lidded eyes, Edward took a step forward to run a finger along my slit, I moaned at the contact and moaned even louder when I watched him suck the juices off of his finger.

"You want me to fuck you, Bella?" He whispered lowly, his hands coming to rest at the swell of my hips. He licked his pink lips and then bit the bottom one.

"Yes, yes… please…" I groaned, shifting my body closer to his.

He spun me around and slightly bent me over the counter. "Then you have to be quiet." I felt his erection at my backside when he leaned to mutter the command in my ear; his normally smooth voice was gritty with lust. Edward licked the shell of my ear and then kissed the spot behind it. A shiver full of need and anticipation traveled down my spine, adding more fuel to the lust-driven fire that burned inside of me.

Without warning he thrusted into me until he was balls deep inside of me. I had never felt so full in my entire life. My body immediately welcomed the invasion as it brought the promise of full and complete satisfaction with it.

"Fuck, you're so tight… so wet," he choked out. My jaw unhinged as I moaned in response, not knowing how to voice how fucking awesome it felt to have something other than my vibrator in there. He began to pump into me slowly, we groaned with each pass and savored the feel without any barriers between us.

"Harder… I want it hard," I panted. Edward picked up the pace and began slamming into me; his grip on my hips became painfully arousing. I watched him through the mirror as he watched my tits bounce with every thrust.

Our moans, groans and the sound of skin slapping against skin were bouncing off of the restroom walls, echoing loudly.

"Oh, shit… feels so good," I cried.

"I want you to come for me, Isabella. I want to feel you come all over my cock," he commanded, bending me over until I was almost parallel with the counter. The new position allowed him to go even deeper.

"Fuck, right there!" I whimpered as he grazed that elusive g-spot. "Oh, shit. Just like that! Shit. Fuck, I'm gonna come," I panted.

Edward leaned over until his body covered mine; I felt his breath moisten the nape of my neck as he panted onto my skin. I turned my head, hoping to silently convey my thoughts because words had eluded me at the moment. I didn't have to worry though; his lips immediately captured mine and speared his tongue into my mouth, mimicking the movements down below.

His left hand let go of the grip he had on my waist and snaked his way around the front. Edward's finger immediately drew tight circles around my responsive clit, putting more pressure on it with each complete circuit. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as my legs shook, threatening to give out with the intensity of my imminent orgasm. The sensations were overwhelming; my body was wound up and tense, threatening to snap without a moment's notice.

"Oh my guh, ungh… fffffff-" I groaned out, my pussy clamping around his cock. I could already feel the evidence of my big O running down my thighs. Edward pulled me flush against his body, still furiously drilling into me, eager to find his own release. His right hand clamped down on my mouth as his left continued to circle my clit. I came for the second time, harder, and I screamed into his hand. I felt his teeth at my shoulder, slightly biting and grunting as he stilled his movements and spilled into me.

"Bella, are you alright in there?" Angela asked with a light knock.

I snapped out of my staring contest with my fully clothed reflection and looked at my watch, I cringed; I've been "changing" for nearly fifteen minutes.

"Yeah, sorry, I'll be right out!" I yelled, scrubbing my face to expel those dirty thoughts that made my blood boil with lust. I changed into normal clothes and stuffed my soda-soaked uniform into my tote, I'd just have to deal with damp panties for the next five hours; it was uncomfortable but manageable. I hoped that I wouldn't catch hell from the manager; Lauren was nice, but she was one strict, uptight biotch.

"Sorry."

"Daydreaming again?"

"No!" I protested. My enflamed cheeks gave away my lie. "I was a little sticky."

"I bet," she smirked. I gave her a look that clearly read "eww" because the thought of actually diddling my poon in a public restroom in an establishment where I happened to work is just… gross and all kinds of wrong.

"Jessica spilled a shake on me among other things. I gotta get back to work," I murmured, quickly slipping past her. I made a stop at the janitorial closet to return the "Out of Order" sign and my locker before I resumed my duties.

"Hey, Charlotte! How are you? I haven't seen you in a while. Where's Peter?"

Peter and Charlotte were the cutest elderly couple I had ever seen. They've been married for nearly fifty years and they still hold hands and steal kisses in public; they were part of the few couples who practice PDA that I can tolerate.

"He's recouping from a knee sprain."

"Ouch! Is he alright?"

"Eh, he'll be fine; I think that his ego is more bruised than his body. It serves him right for challenging Alec to a one-on-one." Alec was their eighteen-year-old basketball star grandson with an athletic scholarship to Duke University. He looked like a heartbreaker, but he was actually really shy around girls. I found it endearing and kind of cute when he stuttered around me.

His sister, Jane, on the other hand, was quite the tease. The twenty-two-year old leggy blonde had always left broken hearts littered in her wake. At first glance, she seemed like a party girl who spent her days with a cell phone at her fingertips and surrounded by her "posse," but she was actually a nice girl who was really big on family and had always put them first. Ninety percent of the male staff and customers had salivated over her the last time she had accompanied Charlotte to lunch.

"What will it be for today?"

"Just a glass of water and a grilled chicken Caesar salad with extra croutons. Oh, and a peach cobbler to go; I gotta appease the big baby somehow."

"Are you sure that you don't want to take your salad to go?"

"Nah, I needed the alone time and a break from all his whining. Can you believe that he's already planning to practice for a rematch? He's waiting for his 'damn knee to heal itself.' Crazy. He sits there and gives it pep talks, coaxes it to heal faster. He honestly thinks he can keep up with Alec; sometimes I question his sanity," she declared with a shake of her head. I laughed. They obviously bickered like an old married couple, but one could clearly see the love shining in both of their eyes when they looked at each other.

After putting Charlotte's order in, I quickly checked on Edward's table while effectively ignoring 3P's snippy comments (about me, the diner, the world in general) before I flitted around, handing out checks to those who were ready, refilling drinks and greeting new customers.

Soon, I got into my groove; I worked efficiently and gracefully. I wasn't always bitter every time I had shown up for work; most of my customers were easy-going and polite, so witty banter flew easily. But, there were some pieces of work that I had constantly wished would stop coming here.

I was in the middle of refilling a cup of coffee when 3P got up with a huff and stormed out, angrily muttering to herself and shaking her head. Her odd behavior had caused a scene and completely ended the hum of conversation. I found myself becoming jealous as I watched her stomp out the door. I wished that I had the ability to gracefully glide across the floor in five-inch heels without slipping or tripping. Beauty, grace, smarts…the only thing she needed was a personality overhaul and she would have a very good chance at becoming Miss America.

"Trouble in paradise?" I questioned Edward, dropping off another Sprite to replace his empty cup.

"Uh, yeah… wait, no! That wasn't what it looked like," he said, almost pleading with me to understand. I could have been imagining that; it won't be the first time.

"No?" My ear perked up at this tidbit of information.

"No, she's my boss. Gianna gets a bit temperamental when she doesn't get her way," he informed me.

_I've noticed._

"Feel like sharing with the class why she stormed out of here like a head cheerleader being turned down for prom?" He cracked a smile.

"She finally understood that I had no desire to have dinner or drinks with her. She's a little bitter about it."

"Isn't that against company policy?"

"Well, there isn't really a policy at the hospital, but it is definitely frowned upon."

"Especially if it's between a supervisor and a subordinate, right?"

"Exactly."

"Is that the main reason why you won't date her?" _Please say no, please say no!_

"No, no, I'm not interested in her in that way. I have my eye on someone else."

"Oh," I responded lamely. I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice and off of my face, but I might have been failing miserably. The lucky lady (or guy… who knows) would have to be really fucking close to a Grecian Supreme Being or something because Gianna was damn near perfect. It was just my luck to be lusting after a guy who basically sought out flawlessness.

"Yeah, she's really beautiful." _Of course she is; she probably had a face that would launch a thousand ships. I think I'll call her Helen. Pfft._

"She has a great personality; smart, witty, funny and an all-around nice person… very down to earth." _At least her character isn't comparable to Antarctica._

I struggled to keep the "genuinely-happy-for-you" smile on my face as the guy of my dreams – literally – failed to shut the hell up about Helen of Troy; he sounded like he was in love and it only served to remind me of how lonely I was. I eventually tuned him out, focusing on the way his lips had shaped as they formed words instead of hearing the actual words flowing freely from his mouth.

"So you've talked to her? Why don't you just ask her out? You obviously know enough of her character to deduce that she isn't mentally unstable." _…Like I was hoping._ I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the answer, but I knew that if I didn't hear it then it would bug the hell out of me.

"Well, I'm not too sure if she's even interested in me that way. We're… _friendly_. I've never actually seen her outside of work. She's generally nice to people even though the other person is a complete jackass, so I don't know if she genuinely likes me or is humoring me even though she wants to tell me to fuck off. God, I sound like I'm back in junior high or something, wondering if the girl _like_ likes me."

"That's stupid!" I exclaimed. "I- I didn't mean that you were stupid," I backtracked. "I just meant that she would be stupid not to return your feelings. Unless she's married or has a boyfriend… or she's a lesbian.

"From what I can tell in the time that I've gotten to know you, you're a really good guy. You treat women with dignity and respect even though they don't deserve it," I nodded over towards the door, indicating that I was speaking about his boss.

"You're a modern knight in shining armor; I can't tell you how many times you've saved me from Gianna's wrath. You're chivalrous, which I honestly thought was only kept alive in older generations. You're intelligent, easy-going and really, really hot. If she doesn't see that, then she doesn't deserve you. Screw her! Well, not literally… unless you were really looking forward to that. I don't blame you, you probably have a healthy sex drive, so you must have needs to be taken care of," I babbled. _Oh, my fuck! Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!_

"Feel free to tell me to shut up at any time," I pleaded in embarrassment. Edward tried to hide a smile and nodded.

"I think that you should just man up and ask her out. You'll never know how she feels about you until you try; she might be waiting for you to make the first move. Unrequited love or like or whatever it is you're feeling might suck, but it is better than thinking 'what if' your whole life," I said.

On the surface my smile was (hopefully) friendly and serene, but inside I was raging; my stupid brain gave my mouth the go ahead to tell him to go for it. I encouraged him to take a risk to possibly fall in love. I blocked my own chance to be with him. I inwardly rolled my eyes at my stupidity; it wasn't like I had a snowball's chance in Hell with him, anyway. He'd probably go on to have children with Helen of Troy; they'd be the proud parents of supermodel doctors and lawyers or something.

I felt like _that_ girl; the one who secretly likes her friend who likes someone else, but is afraid to say anything because her feelings might get hurt. It was a weird feeling because I've never experienced anything like it before; Jake and I just fell into a relationship. It's not a pleasant feeling.

"Alright," he said to himself, nodding in contemplation.

"Bella," he started and smiled.

_Oh no, he's gonna thank me for being a good _friend_. I've never hated that word so much in my entire life than I did right now._

"Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner this s-Saturday night a-as m-my date?" He stuttered, minutely trembling.

Psych ward, here I come; I've gone batshit. All that daydreaming had rotted my brain. I briefly wondered if my daydreaming was part of something serious like schizophrenia. It could be the reason why this seems so real; I was hallucinating.

I knew that I wasn't asleep; I was way too in control of my thoughts. Then again, there is such a thing as lucid dreaming. No, I was definitely awake; I had just pinched the skin on my forearm between two fingernails and let me just say: that shit hurt like a muthaflunker.

My next thought caused a bit of paranoia to settle in the pit of my stomach; it could be some large, elaborate scheme to humiliate me because there was no way I was the woman that Edward had described to me. Pretty? Yeah, I guess; definitely not beautiful, though. And what was that about 'all-around nice person?' I could barely keep from blowing up at people who really piss me off. No, that whole thing had to be a mistake.

I looked around and there was nothing out of the ordinary; guests were happily chatting, eating and laughing, not paying attention to Edward and me. My coworkers, on the other hand, were definitely acting out of character; they were huddled in the kitchen, watching my exchange with Edward. Even Lauren, who was a stickler for the rules, was crowding in the window, gossiping like an old lady.

I had no clue what the fuck was going on. But, I refused to believe that the people that I had worked with for over six months would just sell me out and humiliate me like that.

Edward cleared his throat and I immediately swung my head towards him. He looked nervous and hesitant and was beginning to turn pinkish. I wasn't aware that he had the ability to blush; he had always seemed to confident and self-assured, but at the same time humble.

"I'm sorry… can you repeat that, please?" I asked.

"Will you go to dinner with me this Saturday?"He murmured, ducking his head to focus intently on his now-shredded straw wrapper. He peeked up at me through his long lashes, the look on his face told me that he was waiting for rejection.

_Huh, I wasn't imagining it_… unless I really was schizophrenic and all this shit was only in my head. For all I know, Edward could be my imagination. How else can someone be so perfect? Nobody's perfect.

_Get real, Bella. Your daydreams are just a result of an overactive imagination; a year-long dry spell will do that to a woman. And excuse you, but Edward _is_ perfect. Now, focus woman; you wanna get laid, right?_

_My voice of reason can be such a bitch sometimes._

"Come on, Bella, you can't just leave him hanging like that! Answer him!" Ben, another server, urged from ten feet away, catching the attention of everybody in the immediate vicinity.

I looked over at Edward; he looked so dejected and got even more pitifully forlorn with each passing second. He looked like he could use a friend.

_Or a girlfriend! The man had asked you to dinner… twice… and you didn't say a word!_

_Oh, right…_

"Yes, I would love to go to dinner with you, Edward," I gushed, the beginnings of a goofy smile spreading across my face. He let out a relieved breath. His answering grin was breathtaking and did naughty things to my girly parts; my panties were a lost cause.

_I wonder how many bases we'll round on the first date. Well… he seems like the gentlemanly type, so risqué groping was probably out of the question. Damn…_

Whatever that case, I was going to dinner with Edward Cullen this Saturday night and nothing was going to get me down.

Maybe I had jumped the gun with my assumption that a happily ever after doesn't exist for me. The crumbling castle of my shattered fairytale was slowly rebuilding itself into something grand and majestic, something fit for a princess who holds nothing but optimism for her future. He may not be proposing marriage or exclusivity, but a dinner date was a step in the right direction towards a relationship. In the end, I did get the prince I had been dreaming about… _I just have to work on making it permanent this time around._

_Now, the age old question: what the hell am I going to wear?_

* * *

**So, there you have it! I hope you enjoyed it :) **

**The Swans and Blacks are terribly old-fashioned and it kinda pissed me off to write about it. Most of the customers are based on real people, some may be exaggerated, like Charlotte and her family, but I guarantee you that the rest of them are very real. I've seen it, experienced it and heard stories about it.**

**I don't actually know if hopitals have non-fraternization policies or what is acceptable. I had asked a friend of mine, but all she mentioned was nepotism.**

**For those of you who aren't familiar with the line about Jasper being a USC man, it refers to the UCLA-USC rivalry.**

**CHS Flaggies (pep flags) - these girls were awesome when I was in high school. If you have the time, go here:  
http:/www(.)youtube(.)com/watch?v=po0QBClD8oQ  
Twirling flags and dancing isn't as easy as it looks... especially if you're trying to be in sync with the rest of the squad.**

**I might turn this one-shot into a multi-chaptered story because writing a judgmental Bella is ridiculously fun, but Act of Contrition is my first priority.**

**Those of you reading AAoC: I know that I'm lagging with the updates, I'm very sorry about that. But, life has thrown me a few curveballs and I'm trying to sort through everything. I don't have a timeline on chapter 15, but you are more than welcome to follow me on Twitter for any updates; I go by unLuckky13. The link is also on my profile.**

**On a side note: did anyone watch the Lakers/Suns game? Fricken awesome good game! During the final seconds, I smacked the coffee table so hard that my hand went numb. Let's go Lakers ;)**

**If you have any questions or need clarification on some points, feel free to PM me.**

**My birthday is on the 7th, so do me a favor and leave me a gift in the form of a review =D**

**Thanks for reading!**


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